The Cure For What Ales You Read online

  Hans’s tanned face broke out into a smile. “You know how it goes with my folks. They look at you with those sweet German blue eyes and say, ‘Hans, if it is not too much of a bother do you zink you could take a shift at ze festival?’ How can you say no to that?”

  “You can’t. It’s not possible. Otto and Ursula are far too kind to turn down. I feel you. Remember, I tried to decline their generous offer of giving me a percentage of Der Keller, but that ended it before I got two words out.”

  “It’s not worth trying to resist them.” Hans poured a golden amber pint and handed it to a waiting customer. “What brings you out of your brewing cave? Are you thirsty?”

  “No thanks. I’m saving myself for some wine tasting in a little while.” I told him about Eleanor’s offer. “I figured I would come take a peek at the flower market. I need to outfit my patio and deck. I have a good start, thanks to the planter boxes you built for me and a few baskets the previous owners left for me. Now that I’m living in the village, my house can’t be the only place on the street without abundant hanging baskets and greenery.”

  “True. Can you imagine the notes April Ablin will tack to your front door if she feels like your front porch isn’t bursting with Bavarian blooms?”

  “Thanks a lot.” I would have punched him in the shoulder, but I didn’t want to spill the beer he was pouring.

  “Speak of the devil.” Hans looked up and nodded.

  April pushed her way through the line. “Sloan Krause, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

  Damn.

  Even for April, her outfit of choice was a shocker. The plunging neckline on her fuchsia barmaid’s dress left nothing to the imagination. Her lacy black bra was on display for everyone to see. As were her legs. I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but her dress was shorter than the one she’d given to Kat. It looked like it had taken every effort for her to squeeze herself into the revealing ensemble.

  “Why were you looking for me?” I asked, trying not to stare at her bustline. It was hard to avoid, since her pushup bra had lifted her breasts halfway to her chin and she had smothered every inch of skin with a shimmery lotion.

  “Like you don’t know.” She waved her index finger in my face. Her nails had been painted in fuchsia polish, and each had a different flower design in the center. “I gave Kat explicit instructions on Nitro’s interior and exterior design, along with costume recommendations. I was just at the tasting room, and none of the materials I sent back with Kat are on display. You know as well as anyone in this village that every resident and business owner needs to embrace Maifest. It is our duty as a Gemeinschaft—that means ‘community,’ by the way—to welcome visitors with the most elaborate German décor they’ve ever seen.”

  “Garrett and I have been nothing short of welcoming all weekend, I can assure you of that.”

  “Ha! With your sterile scientific blah—white walls and black-and-white photographs is not embracing our community spirit. You must remember that the reason visitors come to our version of Bavaria is for Bavaria. They can get boring, minimalist warehouses like Nitro in Seattle. It is imperative that we all embrace the German aesthetic. It’s what has kept our village growing and thriving for the past thirty years. Need I remind you of darker times when Leavenworth nearly didn’t make it? You know how the story goes. If it weren’t for our Bavarian forefathers, our town would be in utter ruin. Nitro is single-handedly threatening our future survival.”

  That was a stretch, to say the least. April wasn’t wrong about Leavenworth’s past. In the sixties, the town was on its last legs after the railroad was rerouted. Many industries vanished, and townspeople left in droves in search of a better life for their families. Fortunately, a handful of community members rallied together to save the town. Given our proximity to the alps of the North Cascades, the entire town underwent a major renovation. Buildings were redesigned in the German aesthetic, and our famously popular festivals like Maifest were created.

  “I highly doubt that,” I said to April. “We were packed this afternoon, and everyone loved the experience.”

  April let out an exasperated sigh. “Sloan, I don’t have time to go round and round on this. You didn’t even have the decency to stay in your dirndl. I can’t deal with this at the moment because right now I have at least a million fires to put out. You can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to be me during festival weekends.”

  We could agree on that much.

  “I’ll stop by Nitro first thing in the morning with some new swag for you to distribute to your guests tomorrow. We may not have been able to wow them with German delights at the pub today, but at least we can salvage their return trip home with some custom stickers, key chains, and souvenir glasses.” She gave me a hard stare. “I’ll be there at nine sharp, understood?”

  “You got it, Captain.” I couldn’t resist giving her a salute.

  She stormed off.

  Hans chuckled. “I’ll never get tired of watching April get under your skin. There aren’t many people—if any—who I’ve ever seen rattle you, Sloan, but April does it every time.”

  “She doesn’t bug you?”

  He shrugged. “I take it in stride. She is the textbook definition of schadenfreude. Plus, she’s given up on me. After asking me out in less than subtle ways at least a dozen times, I think she’s finally realized that it’s not going to happen and has set her sights elsewhere.”

  There was something about his tone and the way he emphasized elsewhere that gave me pause.

  “Wait, what? You don’t mean what I think you mean?”

  He nodded. “Oh yeah. She’s been at Der Keller every day for the past two weeks. She sits at the bar, nurses a glass of gewürztraminer, and flashes her fake lashes at Mac.”

  “What?” That was low. Not that I would put it past April, but after helping her out of a jam and using her to purchase my cottage, I would have thought she would have the decency not to go after my ex-husband.

  “Don’t worry about it. Mac is clueless, and even if he wises up to April’s overt flirting, he has no interest. Trust me. For starters, she is way too old.” Hans winked.

  That didn’t make me feel any better.

  “She rotates through every single guy in town, tourists, too. She’ll tire of Mac, just like she did with me, but if you want a good laugh, drop by the pub at lunchtime one day next week, and you can watch her feminine wiles in action.”

  “No thanks. That is definitely not something I need to see.” The thought of it made me want to poke my eyes out. It did explain April’s shrinking outfits, though.

  I changed the subject. “Hey, is Alex at the restaurant? I might pop in and say hi before my wine tasting.”

  “He was there earlier. I can tell you that he must have inherited his work ethic from you and not my brother. He was literally running from table to table to try and make sure there was never an empty pint glass. I know I’m a biased uncle, but you’ve got a pretty cool kid on your hands.”

  “You won’t get an argument from me on that. Do you think he’ll be mad if he catches me spying on him?”

  “Never.” Hans laughed. “What teenager doesn’t want their mother lurking around?”

  “But I’m a chill mom.”

  “I’m not sure that chill moms exist in the eyes of teenagers.” He raised an eyebrow. “Oh hey, that reminds me. There was a guy at Der Keller asking about you earlier.”

  I froze. My throat tightened, and my pulse thudded in my neck.

  “Who?” I hoped my voice sounded casual.

  “I didn’t catch his name. He was older. No one I recognized. He said he knew you from community college. He must be one of your old professors?”

  “Right. Probably.” I clenched my fists. None of my professors had kept in touch. A cold chill ran up my arms, and I didn’t think it had to do with the temperature.

  “Anyway, he thought you were still working at the brewery. I told him he could find you at Nitro. He�
��ll probably stop by tomorrow. Just to give you a heads-up.”

  “Thanks.” I forced a smile. “Did he say anything else?”

  “No. Not anything that stuck out.” Hans thought for a moment. “He seemed excited to meet you. He said this was his first time in Leavenworth and he was looking forward to the festivities. I didn’t have a chance to speak with him for long. I was dropping off some new tasting paddles and happened to overhear him asking about you at the bar.”

  “Great. I’ll be on the lookout for him tomorrow. Did he say when he was going to come by?”

  Hans shook his head. “No, sorry. I guess I should have asked more questions. Like I said, we had a brief conversation, and he just said he would swing by Nitro and say hi.”

  “Don’t sweat it. It sounds like I’ll see him tomorrow.”

  I left the beer tent and made a beeline for Der Keller. A feeling of dread invaded every cell in my body. I could hear my heartbeat reverberating in my head, and sweat began to bead on the base of my neck. Less than an hour ago I had convinced myself that Marianne’s claims that I was in danger were unwarranted. Had I made a fatal error?

  Could Forest actually exist and, worse, be here in Leavenworth looking for me and my family?

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  I FELT GRATEFUL FOR my police escort as I left Hans and headed for Der Keller. The knowledge that John was nearby helped soothe some of my fears, but for the first time since Marianne’s arrival, I felt truly afraid. What would I do if Forest showed up at Nitro tomorrow? Did I need to warn Garrett and the rest of the staff? My instinct told me that maybe it was time to loop in Mac. Marianne had been so adamant about not saying anything to anyone other than the police, but if there was one thing I knew about Mac, it was that he would do whatever it took to protect Alex. He would never let harm come to our son.

  I made up my mind on the spot. I could handle myself, but Alex was a different story. If anything happened to him …

  Stop, Sloan. You can’t think like that.

  I exhaled and crossed Front Street toward the restaurant and pub. The patio was wall-to-wall people with a line stretching down the block waiting to get in. I waved to the hostess, who I had hired a few years ago when I was still working at Der Keller.

  “I just need to chat with Mac for a second.”

  She let me through.

  Inside, the bar was equally jammed with customers pressing toward the long row of taps. Every seat in the restaurant was full. Upstairs a German polka band serenaded the crowd. The energy was alive and electric. I scanned the space, looking for Mac.

  “Oh hey, Sloan,” one of the waitstaff said as he passed by me, balancing a huge tray loaded with German potato salad, sausages, and sauerkraut.

  “You haven’t seen Mac by chance?”

  The waiter turned toward the kitchen. “Last time I saw him, he was putting out fires in the back.”

  “Thanks.” I squeezed through the throng to the rear of the restaurant. Der Keller was by far the biggest property in the village. The restaurant and pub, along with the outdoor patios, brewery, and kitchen, encompassed nearly half a block. Across the street was the bottling warehouse—soon to be canning plant, offices, distribution, and dock sales.

  I went down a short set of stairs toward the brewery on the lower level. This area was off-limits to guests for obvious reasons. Der Keller’s brewing operations made Nitro look like we were brewing in kettles on our kitchen stoves. Its massive shiny brite tanks and grain silo stretched twenty feet in the air. A network of platforms and scaffolding stretched between the copper tanks. Epoxy floors and skylights made the brewery feel even more spacious. Everything was automated with state-of-the-art equipment. The Krause family legacy had humble beginnings. In the first years after immigrating to the United States, Otto and Ursula had taken out a small loan to start Der Keller and follow their passion for brewing German-style ales. Over the decades, they had grown and expanded to become a household name not only in Leavenworth, but throughout the entire Pacific Northwest. They were the ultimate American dream.

  “Sloan, what are you doing here?” Mac nearly plowed me over as he stepped out from behind the brite tank.

  “Looking for you, actually.”

  He dabbed his brow with his hand. “Whoa, that doesn’t happen very often. I would say I’m excited, but I have to admit I’m kind of scared. What did I do now?”

  “Nothing. This time it’s all me.”

  His blue eyes squinted. “Huh? I don’t understand.”

  “Do you have a minute? I need your help.”

  He reached for my arm. “Sloan, you know I’m here for you, always.” His voice developed a husky quality.

  “Mac, this is serious.”

  “I’m being serious.” He threw out his hands in frustration.

  “Can we go to your office?”

  He glanced at the front. “Sure. Let me tell the team that I’m stepping out for a minute. I’ll meet you over there. You know the code.”

  I took the back exit and crossed over to the other building. It shared the same Bavarian architecture as the taproom and restaurant, but the interior lacked charm. Not that it was necessary, since visitors didn’t access the building. John dutifully followed behind me, giving me space as I let myself in with the keypad, and followed the stairs up to a narrow hallway with offices on each side until I got to Mac’s. It was on the second floor with a large six-pane window that looked out over the village.

  “I’ll wait out here. Holler if you need me,” John said, taking up a post in front of Mac’s office door.

  I thanked him and went inside. It had been a while since I’d been in his office, and not surprisingly, not much had changed, except it looked like he’d actually purged the usual stacks of unread paperwork that tended to pile everywhere. Photos of the three of us in happier times lined his desk: us at Otto and Ursula’s fortieth anniversary celebration and hiking in the Enchantments, along with pictures of Alex in his soccer uniform and skiing gear.

  Brewing medals and awards filled the remaining wall space, shiny gold reminders of Der Keller’s domination in the regional and international brewing scene. There were trophies from competitions large and small, framed articles from Brew Bound, BeerAdvocate, and DRAFT Magazine. Features on the Krause family’s success had crossed the globe, making headlines and the front pages in newspapers from Germany to Japan.

  One of the perks of gaining notoriety in craft beer circles was the celebrity visits Der Keller had had over the years. Mac always took the lead when it came to giving famous visitors a tour of the brewery or stopping to pose for photos with them. He had amassed quite a collection of pictures over the years from dignitaries and politicians to Seattle Sounders and Seahawks players and A-list celebrities passing through on their way to film on location in nearby Canada.

  Mac arrived a minute later. He took a seat behind his desk, which was more organized than I’d ever seen it. “Have a seat.”

  I pulled up a chair.

  “What’s going on, Sloan? You look spooked.” He pushed aside a stack of grain catalogues and leaned his elbows on the desk. “And there’s a guy who looks like he’s on presidential detail in the hallway. I’m guessing that’s because of you?”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “Mac, I’m going to tell you something that no one else in town knows except for Chief Meyers. I mean, no one. You have to keep this between us, understood?”

  “No one knows, not even Hans?” There was a slight edge in his voice.

  “Not even Hans. No one.”

  “Okay. I guess I’m flattered that you’re trusting me. That’s a big step for us.”

  “This isn’t about us. It’s about Alex. He might be in danger.”

  “What?” Color spread across Mac’s cheeks. He’d never been able to disguise his emotions. He wore them on his skin like an ever-changing chameleon.

  “That’s why I’m telling you and why you cannot mention a word to anyone about what I’m going to
say. Got it?” I hoped that my serious tone was getting through to him.

  “Got it.” He nodded. His cheeks turned even redder, and his jaw tightened. “What kind of danger could Alex be in? He’s an awesome kid. He has awesome friends. I don’t understand. He’s not into drugs, is he? He can’t be. I swear I would know if he was, and he’s been working his butt off this weekend. Everyone on staff has said it. Not just me.”

  “No, no it’s nothing like that. Before I tell you, please promise me one more time that you won’t breathe a word of this to him or anyone. Not your family. Not your mom, your dad, or Hans.” A sluggish feeling invaded my body. Maybe I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t not tell him if there was even a tiny risk to Alex.

  “Yeah, Sloan, I got it. I won’t, but you’re really starting to scare me.” He sat up and unbuttoned the top button of his checkered shirt.

  “I’m scaring myself.” I leaned my elbows on the edge of the desk. “Mac, this is kind of a long story, and a lot of it I haven’t told you.”

  “Okay, well, we’re here now. Why don’t you start from the beginning.”

  I told him the abbreviated version of my past, including the fact that Ursula and Otto had known Marianne and Forest. I left out any details about their own story. It didn’t have anything to do with the current situation, and that was eventually for them to tell or not to tell.

  Mac listened intently, without interrupting once as I gave him an overview of my meetings with Sally and her research into my case files. Then I went on to relay the strange turn of events since Marianne had arrived in town.

  “Sloan, you should have told me. I could have helped earlier. I can’t believe Mama and Papa knew about your past and never said anything. That must have shattered you. And at the same time that I made the worst mistake in my life. Sloan, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for my entire family.” He pounded his forehead with three fingers. “It’s so unfair to you.”